The Perfect Something
by Jinxit13
Summary: WRITTEN OF A PROMPT: It all starts in a cosy, little New York bookshop and ends with a romantic date in the rain. FABERRY GOODNESS. Rating may change to M in later chapters and will also include Klaine, Cassandra July and Dantana.


**WRITTEN OF A PROMPT**

**Just a draft for now, I'll see how it goes. It is LOOSELY based of Notting Hill so all credit goes to the rightful owners of the script (this is due to request). **

**As many of you know, this is a completely different style to what I'm used to so please be patient - I'll get there eventually haha. **

**After my previous work was stolen and re-published elsewhere, I'm a little sceptical about posting my new fic. However, your feedback has always been so great and I've spent so much energy on this that I thought it'd be a shame to let it go to waste. I'm really excited to see what you guys think!**

**The first chapter is a build-up. I already have the second one written and might post it soon. **

**Sorry in advance for any mistakes. This fic is mostly set prior to season 3 (although Dani and Cassandra July will be making an appearance and Rachel does attend NYADA!). **

**Reviews are always wonderful to get. Let me know if you think I should continue!**

**/#/#/#/#**

After working the graveyard shift, Rachel found herself running across the bustling New York highway, dodging every taxi, person and inconvenient object that dared to stand in her way. Her hands were weak and shaking from carrying far too many books and an excited, almost pathetic feeling of anticipation consumed her. Whenever she visited the old-timey bookshop on 38th Street, she always found the one book she wanted - and then three more that she hadn't known she wanted. It was the best feeling. Her short strides quickened involuntarily as she neared 38th Street, knocking shoulders with an innocent citizen as she turned the corner.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She said, dropping a book on the sidewalk. The battered, hunched man simply stared at her, speechless, baring his rotten teeth. "I'm sorry..." Rachel mumbled, scooping up the book and hurrying on, likening his face to one Sue Sylvester's. He looked just as disgruntled and as disgusted by her as Sue had done when the Glee Club performed 'Push It Real Good.' The sheer horror of her proximity to him caused him to recoil so she moved swiftly on, avoiding all eye contact. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that he was still staring at her, jaw dropped and brow furrowed as she skipped away down the New York sidewalk.

She kept her eyes focused on the ground until she finally reached the bookshop, resisting the urge to sneer right back at him over her shoulder. The obnoxious, alcoholic drunk narrowed his eyes, dropping them from her hair to her legs and then back up again. She recoiled in disgust and pushed open the heavy door, leaving him behind to wonder.

As soon as she stepped into the familiar world of organised chaos and breathed in that sweet perfume of paper and magic that strangely no one had ever thought of bottling, the hunched man became a distant memory.

She dumped her purse in the doorway like she usually would, shutting the dark oak door behind her. "Joyce? Are you here?" She called, straining to see over the pile of books. No answer. She stuck her nose in the air, searching for the scent of warm cookie dough or freshly poured coffee. All she could detect was the sweet caramelised aroma of vanilla and cinnamon, mixed together to create some kind of Christmassy illusion.

She gently placed the pile of adored books down by the door, shrugging off her coat to reveal a red, waitressing uniform buttoned up to her neck. "Joyce? Would you like help with anything?" She called, remaining stationary in the hallway. Again, no answer.

She hung her coat upon an unusually empty peg and cautiously ventured inside the shop, poking her head around the door. "Hello?"

"Can I help you?"

Rachel gasped and spun around, her eyes immediately latching onto the most divine, subtle, beautiful woman on earth. "Q-Quinn?" She stuttered in disbelief, wide-eyed and scarcely able to believe whom she was seeing. "W-what are you, erm, wh-what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Quinn smiled, trying to decide whether or not a hug was appropriate. She didn't have a choice. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Rachel's arms were wrapped around her neck, pulling her into a crushing embrace.

Rachel's heart stopped, shocked by her own boldness as she held the blonde in her arms. Quinn looked just the same but with the slightly more angular features of maturity. There was no trace of her uptight, frigid and frighteningly wholesome persona that Rachel had once learnt to fear. Instead, she was confident and relaxed, comfortable as she stood wrapped in an friendly embrace with her high-school nemesis. They shared a smile, their eyes latching onto each other's for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't a glare or a stare with animosity or distaste behind it, but almost as if Quinn's hazel orbs were smiling. As if to demolish any possible of worries of the diva's even further, Quinn squeezed her a little tighter before stepping away.

"I can't believe it's you." Rachel gushed excitedly, scanning every inch of Quinn's face. She reached out to touch her hand, just to make sure she was real. She was even more surprised when the blonde didn't pull away. "I haven't seen you in so long."

"It's been three years." Quinn said, slightly surprised herself that it had in fact been three, relatively short years since they'd last seen each other. Rachel looked just the same as she remembered, but her smile was wider and her eyes were brighter. "How are you, Rachel?"

"I'm good..." Rachel nodded, noting Quinn's proper use of her name, rather than a more colourful nickname. Yentl, RuPaul, Man Hands and That Thing were just a few that sprung immediately to mind. "Really great, actually. I'm in my last year at NYADA. How about you?"

"I'm just trying to make ends meet at the moment." Quinn admitted modestly, glancing at the bookshop and it's ever-expanding collection of novels and one-off masterpieces. "It's much harder than I'd imagined."

"Tell me about it." Rachel muttered, wincing at the thought of paying her rent that month. She'd still had no luck with any of her auditions, except for one commercial which she'd banned both Kurt and Santana from ever mentioning again. It was tampon-related - enough said. She was also still working in a diner and lived with Santana and Kurt, neither of which respected her compulsion to pay the rent on time. She really wanted to avoid being thought of as a 'bad-tenant' but they were much less worried. "Do you come here often?" she asked, looking around to see if anyone else was present. It was empty.

"Yes, every day." Quinn nodded, smiling lightly. "I figured it's the least I should do."

"How come?" Rachel asked, catching the small, light smile on Quinn's lips and wondering if there was something on her face.

Quinn reached out without thinking and tucked a stray curl behind Rachel's ear. It didn't feel awkward or forced touching Rachel like that, despite the thundering of her heart against her chest as her thumb lightly traced the diva's cheek. "I own it." she said, keeping her eyes trained on Rachel.

"Oh." Rachel laughed nervously, kicking herself for not realising sooner. She didn't move until Quinn's lingering hand fell away from her face. There was just a tiny spark between them, but it was enough to reduce Rachel into a quivering wreck. "I, erm, I guess that means these t-technically belong to y-you now." she said, twisting to point at the wavering stack of beloved books by the door.

"That's correct." Quinn laughed, although she was still very much unsure of herself and the role of a business owner. She had no idea where all those books - and there were a lot of them - were supposed to go. She looked Rachel up and down, her smile deepening. Those adorable dimples, her big, molten brown eyes framed with long, dark eyelashes and thick, wavy hair were all so beautiful. Her breath caught in her throat when Rachel peered up at her through thick eyelashes, her heart racing. "You look amazing by the way, Rachel."

"Why Miss Fabray, I didn't know you could do praise," teased a sparkly-eyed and decidedly confident Rachel. A pinkish glow sprinkled her cheeks, and she ducked her head to hide from Quinn's subtly amused smile. _I kind of deserved that_, Quinn thought to herself.

"Well only for exceptional circumstances like this one," replied Quinn. She dropped her eyes from Rachel's hair to her smile.

"Thank you... Quinn," Rachel beamed, noting that it was the first honest compliment she'd ever really received from the blonde.

"And that's a stunning dress," added Quinn, using the opportunity to run her eyes over Rachel, lingering slightly longer than politically correct on her legs.

"Nothing you haven't seen before," Rachel paused to enjoy the slight blush on Quinn's cheeks, "in Glee Club."

"Definitely haven't seen you in heels that high," replied Quinn. "I can see your eyes rather than the usual top of your head."

They smiled at each other, communicating far more in a non-verbal manner. The intensity of their locked gazes was suddenly broken.

"It's really nice to see you again, Quinn." Rachel said, suddenly shy as she smoothed the creases out of her uniform. She didn't quite know where to place her emotion - or her eyes. She still felt slightly awkward, frightened that she was going to say the wrong thing.

"You too," Quinn nodded, genuinely meaning it. "You should come by more often."

"I will do." Rachel promised. "Definitely."

The two stood in silence as they adjusted to each other's presences after so long. This time, as equals. Quinn racked her brain for something to say. She felt as so an apology of some kind was in order, but she didn't know where to start. She had no false illusions that Rachel had magically forgotten the years of torment she had put her through and she wanted the diva to know that she had changed, grown up and matured without it feeling like she was in denial that anything was ever wrong between them.

However, just as quickly as the words formed in the back of her mind, they vanished from the tip of her tongue, leaving her standing face to face with Rachel without a single word being exchanged."Would you like a coffee?" she blurted, hoping that Rachel would say yes. It would give her time to work on her apology.

"Sure." Rachel smiled, still struggling to wrap her mind around the situation. "Better make mine a half though, it's all I can afford."

Quinn laughed, biting her bottom lip in thought. "I understand your logic. This one is on me."

Rachel smiled. "Thank you."

She followed the blonde into the next room where more chaos was assured. It was a small shop, slightly chaotic with bookshelves everywhere and little secret bits round corners with even more books. It was warm, cosy and perfectly decorated with French styled décor, although an exposed brick wall helped contribute to a more modern, urban feel.

"Sorry about the mess." Quinn said as she gestured to the lack of storage space, blushing lightly. Rachel smiled, inhaling it's wonderful scent of vanilla that was accented by the cinnamon flavoured candles burning on the window sill.

"It's perfect." Rachel assured her, absent-mindedly trolling through the books before Quinn had even had a chance to leave the room.

"Make yourself comfortable." Quinn said, not that Rachel heard her. She was already lost in a world of paper, ink and meaningful entries from authors all over the world.

Quinn backed out of the room, wandering back down the hallway in search of coffee. She remembered what Rachel liked - it was ingrained in her memory like a tattoo inked on her skin. Her heart continued to thump heavily in her chest, her hands shaking as she reached the coffee machine.

In the other room, Rachel wandered aimlessly amidst a collection of shelves, each housing thousands of books. She traced the book's covers with her index finger, never really settling on one in particular. She wanted a novel to read while waiting between classes a NYADA, but her mind was too busy occupying itself with images of Quinn's sweet, coy smile when she'd left the room.

Her pulse could be felt through her uniform, beating louder and more predominantly with every second that passed. She noted little things about the store which had already been changed since her last visit. The candle's for instance, or the cashmere throw hanging over the back of armchair. The small photographs behind the counter, and the chicken wire display behind her desk. Rachel abandoned the shelves and walked over to the large, white, French-styled photo frame which had had it's glass taken out. Instead, the inside of the frame had been replaced with chicken wire and a small, pink, wooden heart with the words 'Good Luck' was tied around it's wire. On the shelves, there was a collection of other pink hearts, all with similar little quotes. They were lovely, and it looked as though Quinn was planning on hanging them up too.

She unhooked one of the little hearts and held it in her palm. It's message read 'Serendipity Happens.'

"Beautiful, right?"

Rachel glanced over her shoulder to see Quinn leaning against the doorframe, two mugs of coffee in her hands. "Yes." Rachel breathed, staring at the heart and then at Quinn. _Maybe_ s_erendipity does happen. _She hooked the heart back in it's original place and thanked Quinn for her coffee.

The blonde walked behind the counter and sat down on her stool, readying herself to apologise. "Rachel-"

The door to the main entrance swung open and a young twenty-something male appeared, wearing a hoody and baggy joggers. He looked quiet and introvert, not like your typical trouble-maker, but Quinn eyed him suspiciously as he walked past.

Rachel sipped her drink slowly, cautious of burning her tongue. "Oh, my, god." she smiled. "You remembered."

"Remembered what?" Quinn asked, deciding to play innocent.

"My favourite drink." Rachel beamed, sipping her White Chocolate Mocha.

"It was just a lucky guess." Quinn shrugged, although Rachel eyed her suspiciously.

"Either way, thank you. It's delicious."

Quinn smiled, wrapping her cold hands around the latté. "So, did you come here to buy something?"

Rachel looked around, furrowing her brow. "I guess I came to have a browse. I wanted something to read between classes."

"Well, browse away." Quinn said. "Is there anything in particular that you're looking for?"

"No, not really." Rachel shrugged, eyeing the numerous shelves that lined every wall. "Do you mind if I have a look around? I love bookshops. There's something so special about them."

"Of course." Quinn smiled, content just to sit and watch the diva explore. She was still having trouble controlling the thundering inside her chest while she tried in vain to come up with a reasonable explanation for her actions during high school. At the same time, she was also trying to desperately to maintain a controlled composure. She set herself a challenge to distract herself from Rachel's exposed legs. For such a little brunette, her legs were surprisingly long and toned - something that Quinn made a mental note off. _I must thank her dance teacher one day_. Quinn thought to herself, staring at the diva's toned torso as she stretched to retrieve a book from the top shelve.

Quinn would have offered to help - honestly, she would have - but Rachel looked so damn good in her uniform and the further she stretched, the higher it rose to reveal more of her caramel skin. Quinn began to count the amount of people that walked past the shop as a distraction, rolling her eyes to the ceiling when Rachel's uniform slid up her thigh.

Rachel examined John Green's book, Looking for Alaska and then slowly wandered over to white, vintage cabinet full of romance novels, her mocha clasped tightly in her hands. Just as she reached down to pick up an old, torn copy of the beloved classic Pride and Prejudice, a travel book caught her attention. Usually, this would be of no interest to her at all, but she was thinking about taking a break and she didn't know much about road trips. Maybe a little bit of research wouldn't hurt.

"That book's really not good - just in case, you know, browsing turned to buying. You'd be wasting your money."

"Really?"

"Yes. This one though..." Quinn reached for a book beneath her desk. "Is very good. I think the man who wrote it has actually been on a road trip before, which helps. There's also a very amusing incident with a kebab."

Rachel laughed, pushing the book she was holding back into it's place. "You need to work on your sales pitch."

Quinn hid her smile behind her coffee mug, glancing at Rachel through the steam. "Perhaps you're right." She could barely even think straight when Rachel's eyes pierced hers in that innocently sexy way that was so unstated, yet so overwhelmingly powerful at the same time, she couldn't look away.

"There's no 'perhaps' about it." Rachel scoffed, turning to browse through more books as Quinn sipped on her latté.

Quinn, looking for a welcome distraction, suddenly spied something odd on the small TV monitor beside her. "If you could just give me a second."

Rachel's expressive brown eyes followed Quinn as she moved towards the back of the shop and approached the strange, young man in slightly ill-fitting clothes. He looked at her with a mixture of guilt and surprise, arousing and practically confirming her suspicions at once. He turned away from her and pretended to act nonchalant.

"Excuse me." Quinn said, poking the man on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Bad news."

"What?"

"I've got a security camera in this bit of the shop." She stated, pointing to the CCTV camera, directed right at the thief in question.

"So?" He questioned, rather viciously. Instantly, Rachel gripped hold of her coffee so that she'd have something to throw at him if need be.

"So, I saw you put that book down your trousers."

"What book?" He asked, continuing to forge innocence. Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously, focusing on his crotch as he squirmed uncomfortably.

"The one down your trousers."

He stared at her, suddenly smirking. He thrust his hips forward ever-so-slightly, enough to make Quinn squirm at his onset of crude comments that followed. "I haven't got a book down my trousers, but I'll take that as a compliment, darling. Have a feel if you like?"

"Why?" Quinn asked, folding her arms across her chest. "We both know there's nothing to see, or feel for that matter, and please, don't keep touching yourself to make sure it's still there."

The guy scowled at her, obviously insulted, but Quinn refused to move. "Right - well, then we have reached something of an impasse." She said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'll tell you what - I'll call the police - and, what can I say? - If I'm wrong about the whole book-down-the-trousers scenario, I really do apologize."

The thief rolled his eyes, looking at her as if she was nothing more than dirt on the sole of his stolen Nikes. "Okay - what if I did have a book down my trousers?"

"Well, ideally, when I went back to the desk, you'd remove the Cheapskates guide to Bali from your trousers, and either wipe it and put it back, or buy it. See you in a sec."

Quinn returned to her desk, rolling her eyes. Rachel, who had observed the entire scene, looked on with a smile that spread from ear to ear. They both tried - and very almost failed - to hide their amusement as they watched the man on the monitor pull the book from his joggers and slide it back onto the shelf.

"Sorry about that..." Quinn huffed, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it never fails to amaze me."

"No, that's fine." Rachel said, unfazed by the entire thing. If anything, she was slightly confused as to why he'd want to steal a book. It wasn't exactly worth much - the clue was in the title. "I was going to steal one myself, but now I've changed my mind."

Quinn laughed, suddenly feeling as though she had always been around the diva. Nothing had really changed between them apart from their circumstances. "You wouldn't want to be strip-searched by me, surely?" she joked, holding her hand across her heart in a mock portrayal of shock.

Rachel arched one eyebrow at the blonde, her confidence slowly growing. She decided to commit to their exchange in banter - it couldn't do any harm. "Now that would depend. What would my reward-"

"Excuse me?" The scruffy, young man that Quinn had rightly accused of stealing from her interrupted, shuffling his feet.

Rachel turned to face him, hand on her hip. "Yes?"

He shifted uncomfortably, clearly embarrassed. "Can I have your autograph?"

"What's your name?"

"Rhys."

She accepted the piece of paper and graciously scrawled her signature across the page before handing it back to him. He stared at it, turning the paper up-side down.

"What does it say?"

"Well, that's the signature - and above, it says 'Dear Rhys - you belong in jail."

Quinn laughed, seeing Rachel in a completely different light. There was a difference about her, something that she couldn't quite place, but she liked it.

"Nice one." Rhys nodded. "Would you like my phone number?"

"Tempting but... no, thank you."

"Please, do me a favour and disappear." Quinn said, rising from her seat so that she could shoo him out the door. "And don't feel obliged to return either."

"Alright sweetie." He drawled, stumbling out the door. He turned and gave her one last thrust of his bony, little hips and then sprinted of down the street.

"Ergh." she groaned, disgusted by him and the entire male population. "Why do their parents let them talk to women like that?"

"I really don't know." Rachel admitted, watching the blonde as she shot him the middle finger.

Quinn shook her head in disgust and closed the door, returning her attention to someone that deserved it. When she turned around, Rachel was once again staring at the little pink hearts, running her finger's over the chicken wire. Quinn paused, staring at the brunette and then glanced back to the window. Umbrellas came out of nowhere and dotted the sidewalk as pedestrians dashed for cover, and suddenly the romantic city of New York was blanketed by a grey-curtain of water falling from the skies. She paused, wondering if Rachel had somewhere else she needed to be. "Do you want to take a walk?" she asked, grabbing both of their coats of the peg.

Rachel nodded, and then noticed the specks of rain splattering against the window, filling the bookshop with a melodic charm. "It's raining..."

Quinn smiled. "I thought it might be quite nice to walk in the rain. You know, like the films? What do you think?"

Rachel stalled, worried that she had read Quinn's invitation wrong and therefore misjudged her intentions. "Like a date?"

Quinn peeked at her from beneath her long eyelashes, ducking her head in an attempt to hide the primrose coloured blush climbing its way up her neck. "Would that be so bad? I could walk you home?"

Rachel paused, hoping Quinn would look up and see her smiling. She really did look adorable blushing like that. It certainly didn't feel like this was same Quinn Fabray from McKinley, but at the same time, she was the exact same girl that Rachel had always had a soft spot for. Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed all at once. "Quinn?" she said, trying to keep her voice soft. The blonde looked up, half smiling, half pouting. "I'd really like it if you'd walk me home. In fact, I'd love to walk the whole of New York with you."

"Really?" Quinn asked, almost disbelieving. The relief was obvious as she ran her finger's through her hair, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Of course." Rachel grinned. "I'd love it. Now get your coat on Fabray, I'm hungry!"

"Who made you the boss?" Quinn asked, grabbing Rachel's coat and holding it out of her reach.

"Me." Rachel grinned, strutting towards Quinn and swiping the coat from her grip. She brushed past her and opened the door, ready to go. She smirked, knowing that Quinn's jaw was practically on the floor. "And stop looking at my ass."

Quinn scoffed, but couldn't hide the tweak of her lips signalling her amusement. "Fuck."


End file.
